


Back to Neibolt

by ITs_Tozier



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: POV Richie Tozier, Plot Twists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25496143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ITs_Tozier/pseuds/ITs_Tozier
Summary: Richie returns to Neibolt and finally comes to terms with his feelings for a certain asthmatic. Plot twist at the end.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24





	Back to Neibolt

He had levitated like a string-less puppet, entranced in the vision that the “eater of worlds” had projected from it’s soulless mouth. Yes, like Beverly he had most certainly been caught in the deadlights the day before. The same day they had tossed their tokens into the flames, slayed the creature of Derry and crushed it’s beating heart. The day they had lost Eddie Kaspbrak and were forced to leave him, a talon-sized hole in his heart, in that godforsaken tomb. To what extent the glimpse into the deadlights was going to affect Richie, at that point was unclear. Beverly insisted that the plethora of visions she had suffered were a result of her exposure to the deadlights twenty-seven years back, but that was during IT’s long reign over Derry. Now the devil was slayed, the visions had to be far more infrequent, surely there were no more warning signs to be seen, or so Richie hoped as he started his long journey back to Los Angeles. Music blaring, windows rolled down, everything that distracted him from the immense urge to do a one-eighty and return to Derry that same morning. This disconcerting feeling had resonated through his body since he had left Maine. He had convinced himself that this urge had absolutely shit-all to do with the deadlights, it wasn’t a sign and it wasn’t the universe telling him something. Yet his brain was nagging him, perhaps if he returned it would provide some sort of closure? It all happened so quickly, as if waking up from a bad dream. If he turned back now he’d arrive before lunchtime. Were the others feeling the same? Was Bill looking over his shoulder whilst boarding a plane back to England?  
He looked shiftily at the next turn off sign and hovered his finger over the indicator.

He arrived back in Derry just after eleven, sweaty and uncomfortable at the idea of chasing shadows. His heart was thudding in his chest as if it wanted out. Parking up on the sidewalk outside his childhood house, he decided to walk a while. School was still out for the holidays which meant he had to dip and dive around an army of skateboards, scooters and on one occasion a stray soccer ball, which he had kicked back with an astonishing amount of lacklustre. As the owner thanked him, Richie noticed how care-free the boy was. Surely, he’s old enough to catch onto the murders that summer? Was he not afraid of a man traipsing the streets alone? Once again, Richie was struck with a concept that always haunted him as a kid; once in Derry, mortality rates went completely unquestioned. It’s inhabitants just accepted that their own vitality was pinned to an ever-rolling dice, whether or not it landed on you was just another passing thought. “Well little boy” he thought grimly “We’ve saved the town now, but I bet you’ll never know or care why.” The losers club were the only ones curious and brave enough to stop the cycle. “That’s right kid, two of us died so you could carry on losing that ball time and time again.” At this his insides twisted. He saw the talon rip though Eddie’s chest for the hundredth time that day.  
His feet lead him passed “Georgie’s” storm drain, passed the synagogue where Stan made his speech and towards the train tracks. At this point he knew with a heavy heart where he was headed. As he suspected, five minutes later he saw the Neibolt house, jiving amongst heat waves in the distance. His pace quickened with the beat of his pounding chest. With each step, the broken body of Neibolt became clearer, it’s fractured limbs sunken into a gaping sink hole. They had scrambled out moments before it collapsed yesterday. Mike grasping at Richie’s blood-stained shirt, pulling him out even faster, Bill’s relentless grip on his arm tugging him in the same direction. How he had fought against them, yearning to go back in. The air was empty yesterday, as if the universe knew it was over, but now Richie noticed a strange buzz in the air.  
His feet finally stopped outside the front garden’s wrought iron gateway. He stared for a while, then lowered himself onto the dusty gravel, a broken man, crossing his legs like they always did in gym class. A train passed, penetrating the silence; he was away from the overcrowded town now.  
A tornado of grief- filled air escaped his lungs as he let out a loud sob. Yesterday felt like a time capsule, the cuts were made and it was now sealed forever. No one could penetrate the time capsule to change anything. Hell, no one could yank Eddie out of harm’s way, because let’s face it, that’s what this upset was really about. If all had walked out of this alive and well, Richie could bare to be host for more traumatic nightmares claiming that he was “fucked up anyway”. But Eddie, that one little asthmatic shit that had clenched onto his heart unknowingly since the age of twelve. That chance of a future, if only he was brave enough, had been ripped from his soul yesterday along with the Neibolt house and that fucking devil clown. 

Richie’s hands clenched his hair tightly as he purged a flood of tears, shaking from adrenaline and injustice. Waves of energy surged through his muscles as he sobbed into his faded-blood stained shirt. He felt like screaming but it would only project into the abyss of Derry, nowhere even close to where Eddie was now. His limbs clenched and his eyes slammed shut.

“I love you.” He forced out under his breath. Not a soul heard his confession, yet the weight of this secret floated away into the blazing heat waves of Derry. He exhaled a shaky breath and buried his head even further into his knees.

“Yeah asshole.” A voice floated from feet away. “I’d be crying too If I’d left someone for dead in a fucking sewer pipe.”

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment if you enjoyed it (if not: don't be a hater dear.)


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